


The Solace of Strangers II

by oooknuk



Series: Mercy of Death [3]
Category: Highlander: The Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-25 05:50:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10758021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oooknuk/pseuds/oooknuk
Summary: Totally unnecessary Eurominutes from 'Mercy of Death', told from Methos POV, part II





	The Solace of Strangers II

**Author's Note:**

> This is a near sequel to "Mercy of Death" - Methos' story and his POV, covering the period two weeks before the end of that story. It will make little sense unless you read MoD first 
> 
> My thanks to Esjay and to Maureen, yet again.

"You are going to leave."

"Is that a statement or an order?" I asked. "Yes, all right. I am going to leave. Duncan, I have said all along - I have no place at all here. Now, do you need the horse, because I could do with it."

_"Do what you want, take what you need," he said, walking back toward the woods as I rode away._

 

* * *

 

Duncan's final words stung me - hurt as cruelly as anything Caspian had done to me - and all I wanted in the world was to get away from this cursed place and the agonies it had caused. I took the horse he had ridden on, the clothes I had been given, Kronos' sword, my lover's indifference, and left as fast as my mount would carry me.

Kronos' fine gelding was glad to have its head and I let it gallop, revelling in the freedom after days of imprisonment and torment. But I was too weak and tired to endure the jolting pace for long, so I pulled the horse in, and then the memories of all that had happened struck me so hard, that I almost fell. No, wait - that was probably real weariness, I thought, sliding off the horse, and tying the reins around a tree. I looked back at Cassandra's ruined castle - I couldn't see Duncan at all. Well, he had wasted no more time on me, I thought, my eyes stinging at the unfairness of it.

What to do now? I took stock of my assets. A good horse, a sword, clean but insufficient clothes - and ... ah, as I thought. A small store of gold coins under the saddle - not a fortune, but more than enough to buy a meal, a bed for the night, a cloak. Even passage across the Channel, if I wasn't too choosy how I travelled. Kronos had learned that trick from me, as well as a great many others less savoury. But where to go? The nearest town where I had been sold as a slave was but a few miles away, but I did not like the idea of exposing myself there. There was a hamlet twenty miles further and in the direction I wanted to go.

By all the gods, I was tired. It was still well before noon, but I had had no sleep to speak of the previous night, and being buried alive and the battles that had come after had drained me almost past tolerance. Winter was late in coming this year, and the autumn had some heat still to give, when the sun shone as it did today, but it was far from warm. I wished I had a cloak now so I could curl up and rest, but it was too cold without it. There was nothing for it but to ride and hope my strength and that of the horse would last. I mounted the horse again, and urged it forward towards the forest.

I kept my mind resolutely from the Highlander, but the ache was always there. When I had energy to be rational, I supposed I would realise that it was all my fault, but he could have fought harder for me, to convince me to stay. If I was totally honest, it was his dream which unsettled me the most - it disturbed me to think of Kronos' sick personality overwhelming my good and honest Scot. But was that really enough to run from the man I loved?

I couldn't think straight. One thought chased another like squirrels, and if the horse were less well-trained and the road less direct, I would have lost my mount and my way half a dozen times. Soon, the oaks and birches thickened into a true forest, the road grew more narrow and rough. I had been travelling in something of a daze, letting my mount take the lead, but now I was forced to take more care in my riding, and pay more attention to my surroundings if I were to keep my seat and not risk falling if the horse stumbled. After a mile or so into the woods, I became aware of the smell of a fire, and cooking meat. My empty stomach rumbled, even as I instinctively looked about to see if there was any threat. There, up ahead. Three men hunched about a cooking fire, roasting a hare.

"Greetings, lord," the oldest of them said politely. I pulled the horse up and dismounted.

"Greetings, sirrah." They were rough in appearance, their much patched clothing apparently warm enough, but dirty. They too were ragged and unkempt of beard and hair - I had grown used to the castle's well-groomed and much better clothed inhabitants, and this was a reminder that not far from the former walls of the keep, lay a very different world.

My new acquaintances were forest dwellers by the look of them, probably out collecting the autumn harvest of nuts. Yes, I could see sacks behind them. "Would you like to share our meal, lord?" one asked in friendly fashion.

The invitation surprised me, but I was so hungry I would not refuse. The delicious smell of the cooking meat overcame any caution I might have felt. "Only if you will let me pay you for it. I don't suppose you have any drink as well?"

"Aye, we do. Sit you down, sir." They had ale, and bread, as well as a fine hare, and although I could have eaten twice the amount they could let me have, I was well content. I learned their names were Adam, Jonas and Peter, and as I had surmised, lived in the forest, although they did some labouring on the farms thereabout during the summer. War and plague had left the countryside depleted - it reminded me that the people I had left behind could find places to work and live should they choose to leave their sanctuary. Again, my thoughts were with the past and I wrenched my mind firmly back to the present.

"So, master Matthew, you are bound for France?"

"Eventually. I have to go to London before I do so. What do you know of the road between here and there?"

They looked at each other, and for the first time, I felt slightly uneasy. "Oh, it can be very dangerous, milord. Cutpurses and bandits abound. You will need that fancy sword," Jonas said, and I did not care for the way he looked at my weapon. I stood casually and brushed myself off.

"Well, I thank you all for your hospitality, but I must be on my way, for I have far to go." I pulled out my purse, and extracted some coppers, grateful that Kronos had had the sense to mix lesser coinage with the gold. "Will this be enough?"

Their eyes widened, and I realised my mistake too late - even these small coins were a fortune to such as them. "Yes, indeed, sir. For that you could have had the whole rabbit!" And then they laughed at the joke, and I joined in, for all I was anxious to get away.

They bid me farewell heartily enough, and as I rode away, my belly full, my qualms eased. It was not their fault that I presented such a strange figure, or that I waved riches under their noses like that. No wonder they were curious, and perhaps a little avaricious.

Over the pounding of the hooves, I didn't hear it at first, but then I caught the bird song that I knew was no bird. I only had time to realise that I had been right after all before a mighty blow struck me in the back, and pain shot through me. I looked down and saw the wood of an arrow protruding from my stomach. Another blow, this time in the shoulder.

I couldn't stop. I dared not, even though the arrows ripped my vitals with every movement, defying my body's attempt to heal around them. I was in desperate danger - the forest was deep, every shadow could conceal another attack, and although I _thought_ I may have ruined my assailants' plan by staying on my horse, I knew I had to put some real distance between them and me.

I almost made it, although it was a struggle to stay in the saddle against the fiery pain and my fast growing weakness but then a figure appeared in the road, waving his hands and causing my mount to rear up. I had no strength to hold on and fell off awkwardly, heavily onto my back - I heard the snap as the arrows sheared off, imbedding themselves in my body although that was, I thought, the least of my concerns just then. My vision dimmed from the sudden tearing, burning pain, but I could see my former hosts and a fourth man, who grabbed the reins of the horse, grinning at me.

Adam knelt and tugged at my belt, his foot pitilessly anchored in the pit of my belly to give him leverage, the sword or my purse his intended prize. I was damned if I was going to let these bastards strip me and leave me defenceless - I had one hope. With the little breath left in me, I croaked out an ancient command, hoping that Kronos and Silas had played true to form and kept to the old ways.

I was not disappointed - my gelding screamed, reared up and struck the oaf holding the reins, or rather, who tried and failed to hold the reins, knocking him to the ground. The man plucking at my body fell back in terror, as did his companions, as the horse laid waste to them, scattering them. The man on the ground would not rise again in this life - his brains were dashed out. The animal pursued the other three until I called again weakly, then it returned, reins trailing. Another command, and it lowered itself down to allow me to crawl into the saddle. We had trained all our horses to this, to allow us to leave a battlefield even when mortally wounded, as indeed I was very nearly now. There was no time to stop and assess the damage, nor to try and remove the awkwardly placed bolts - I had to get clear of this forest, lest my attackers return with friends or others took their place.

The gelding waited patiently, and I thanked Silas' ghost for his excellent work with the animal. I wrapped the reins in my hand, but I clung to the neck, urging the horse forward with whispered commands. If I could but get clear of this damnable forest, I might be able to remove the arrows and rest until I healed.

I made it canter, and we made good speed, but every jolt of the horse's movement was pure agony. I think my lung was pierced, for I could breathe but shallowly and only at the cost of ripping pain. Every few paces, I coughed and brought up blood, and my wounds haemorrhaged freely - it was well that Silas had accustomed the mounts of the Horsemen to the scent, something that most horses would not tolerate.

I don't know how long it was before I lost consciousness, or when I fell. I came to some distance from where I was attacked, where the trees were much less dense. I was barely conscious of my surroundings. My vision was obscured by dazzle, and I could not focus, although I sensed the horse grazing quietly close by.

God, I was weak, easy pickings for any rogue who encountered me. I had to get these infernal arrows out of me, but easier said than done. The lower of the two protruded a little from me, but I was too weak. I could not get sufficient grip in front to pull it, and I could not quite reach it to pull it from the back because of the injury to my shoulder. I would need someone's assistance, which would cause all kinds of questions I did not want to answer, but which in any case, I could not obtain here. My only hope was to find a farm perhaps, or a fellow traveller who I could persuade to help, and perhaps silence with gold - or my sword, if it was absolutely necessary.

I snicked to the horse, who came obediently, but even though it knelt as before, I could not mount. I dragged myself up by the pommel, hanging from it for long moments, trying to breathe and keep myself from fainting away. I commanded the horse to stand, and bit my lip through trying not to scream as I was dragged upright. My legs felt as if they were made of string. Let me rest, I thought. Even with the arrows still in me, perhaps I would heal enough if I stayed still. I must have passed out again.

It was Immortal presence which jerked me from my doze, and I made to pull my sword from the scabbard but was swiftly reminded that it was my sword arm that was injured. It was too late, the stranger was approaching, but even as I resigned myself to death, I heard a familiar voice. "Methos?" Then my visitor knelt.

"Amanda?" I rasped out, incredulous at her sudden appearance. I would know her voice anywhere but her face was a blur, and her dress only a green softness that brushed against my hand.

"What have you done to yourself now, old man?" she said gently, probing my chest around the arrow wound, making me groan, and wincing herself in sympathy.

"Amanda, I have to get these out," I panted through the fresh pain she was causing.

"These?" She summoned a manservant, who I had not noticed before, and together they rolled me on my side. Now she could see the shoulder wound, and the arrow imbedded hard in it. "Oh, dear. You're right, you do need to get them out. It'll hurt, Methos."

"Just do it, please," I said through gritted teeth, and then a soft cloth was put to my mouth for me to bite on. Amanda had cared for the sick and injured, as had I, and I had no fear that she was incompetent. But she was right - it did hurt, like the devil, and I screamed into the gag as the arrows were pulled, with some difficulty and much force, from my back. I was rolled carefully onto my back, and water brought to my dry lips which I drank gratefully. My face was wiped with a gentle female hand, and then Amanda laid my head on her lap as I waited for the pain to recede and the healing to begin.

"Oh, Methos, you always seem to be in one scrape or another, don't you?"

"Not ... of my making ... this time ...," I panted. She stroked my hair off my face. I was grateful for her soft dress, and the gentle caresses. It seemed a lifetime since I was safe, and cared for.

"You were nearly the death of Rebecca, worrying about you."

"I seem to recall someone else worrying her from time to time," I said teasingly, my voice stronger now the healing was near complete, and my lung almost whole again.

God, it was wonderful to see her - of all the Immortals I could have come across, she was one of the few I could trust not to take my head and to help me. As usual, she looked exquisite, a vision of perfect womanhood in gold embroidered green velvet.

"Where are you going?" she asked. I felt my limbs were stronger and I sat up, with her help.

"To the coast, to find a ship."

"Without a cloak? How came you to be injured?"

"I was attacked. As for the cloak, it's a long story."

She took my chin and looked into my eyes, her own soft brown ones kindly, and a little curious. "Hmmm, I think it could be a very long one, and you look as if you need a good night's rest or three. And feeding up. My house is twenty miles from here, and comfortable. Would you like to come to stay for a few days, or is your journey urgent?"

"Not in the least, my dear, and thank you."

She patted my cheek. "Mind, I shall expect a great many tales of your doings, old man, as repayment."

I helped her stand, and taking her hand, I kissed it. "Of course, my lady."

She had a small coach, and although I preferred to be on horseback, it would be rude to insist. Besides, we were better protected from further attack, and my torn bloodstained clothing would only attract attention. Once inside and on our way, she looked at me critically. "You have fallen on hard times, Methos," she said, taking in my borrowed clothes and thin face. "I thought you were in Germany?"

"How did you ...? Never mind. Yes, I was, and perfectly happy but for a certain Morgan Walker. He abducted me and sold me into slavery here."

Her eyes widened. "He did? Well, you will be pleased to know that he met an untimely end recently."

"Who?" I wasn't exactly grief-stricken.

"Fitzcairn. In London - the whoreson challenged Fitz while drunk and Fitz obliged him by taking his head."

"Good." Much as I had wanted my revenge, I wanted Walker dead more and I was glad he had been killed.

"You, a slave. I find hard to imagine it. But you're free? You were going back to Germany?"

I shook my head. "No, France, I thought. Walker wrecked things in Heidelberg, I can't go back there. I have an identity I can assume in Paris, or perhaps I might go to Rome."

"Why the hurry to leave, Methos?" she pouted. "Are we so awful in this country?"

I opened my mouth to tell her, then shut it again. I had known Amanda three hundred years, but although she knew I was older than her teacher, Rebecca, she didn't know how old I really was. More important, she didn't know I was once one of the Horsemen, nor, so far as I knew, nothing of Cassandra, Kronos or the rest. "Let's just say that some people are less thoughtful concerning their fellow creatures than you."

I knew that would not hold her curiosity for long, but I could not bring myself to talk of Duncan, nor of the others. Not yet at least. Perhaps she sensed how deep my discomfort on this subject was, because she contented herself with looking after my bodily needs, feeding me some of the food she had provided herself with, and making me comfortable against her, protecting me against the jouncing of the coach as if I were her child, not a man nearly ten times her age. I confess the cosseting was not entirely unwelcome.

She explained how she came to be living in England (for I'd heard she was in France, when I last spoke to Rebecca) - she had married well, a rich mortal who she had loved but who had, as they all do, died and left her well provided for. Her small retinue was loyal, and more important, privy to the secret of her Immortality. I felt envious of her sanctuary, grateful she was prepared to let me share it for a while, and wondering what trinkets she would expect as her due for her kindness. Amanda always expected gifts - it was as well that it was a pleasure to give them to her, because she was, at heart, a generous child, if blessed with rather flexible morals when it came to the possessions of others.

It was near sunset before we came to her elegant manor house, surrounded by prosperous farms which she owned, so she told me. My horse and her carriage were quickly and efficiently stabled, and I was swept up by Amanda and two maidservants and taken to a guestroom nearly as large as Cassandra's old bedroom. I was given a goblet of good wine, and made to sit, as the servants quickly and with economy of action, set about making me comfortable. A fire was laid, a bath promised, and a herb scented chest was opened and fine clothing extracted there from. Amanda held them up against me and assessed them critically. "You are much too thin, Methos. But these will do to replace those rags - my woman can adjust them for you."

Once, not so long ago, such clothes as these would have been mine as of right. But slavery and then the siege had made me grateful for such luxury. "But these were your husband's," I protested, even as I yearned to wear the decent, warm clothes.

"John has no need of them any more," she said sadly. "And anyway, it is only fitting that you have the best, don't you think?" she added a little cheekily.

I essayed a bow. "But of course, my lady Amanda. If only to add ornament to your beauty."

She smiled. "Still playing the silly ass, Methos? Now, I want a bath, so do you, and then we shall eat." She poked me in the ribs. "You do remember what eating is, don't you?"

"Aye, my girl, but only because I have a very good memory indeed."

She took her leave, and soon after the water and hip bath were brought. I dismissed the servants and sank into the hot water gratefully, even if it did remind me of the times when Duncan bathed me. No, I would not think of him, I told myself angrily. It is in the past, done with. Think of the fair Amanda instead. She was indeed a sweet thought - tall, and perfect in face and body. Generous in her affections as I knew, and not just with men, but she was no slut. She simply followed her heart in all things, and if it was not a reliable guide at times, there was no shame in that.

I let the pain and weariness of the long day seep away into the rose scented water, reflecting that this was the most comfortable I had been in weeks. Nothing pressing on me, no concerns, no one but myself to worry about or pleasure. It had been over a year since my abduction from my orderly, regular life in Heidelberg, and there hadn't been a single day in all that time that I was not in danger. Now I was safe and warm and, I hoped, soon to be well-fed, as my stomach gurgled and reminded me I had a deficit to make up. The water grew cool and so I rose and dried myself before the fire.

There was a large mirror in the room, unusually, and as I turned to pick up my clothes, I caught sight of the ugly tattoo Caspian had so kindly gifted me with, fading but not gone. I'd forgotten about it ....

Duncan had been shocked when he had first seen it, although the manner of his return had driven Caspian's fare-thee-well completely from my mind. All I had been thinking of was how blessed it felt for him to sleep in my arms again. A blessing now lost to me.

I stood and examined myself in the mirror. I was thin. Much thinner than I was wont to be, although I was never fat. Immortality could not repair overnight the marks of months and months of hardship, the strain in my face from the struggle with Kronos and the others, or my most recent travails. But of the beatings, the whippings, the injuries from the tunnel digging, there was no sign. I was as fair and straight of limb as when Duncan first met me. And as I was when he came back to the castle.

That morning, I'd woken before him. I still shrank from the stares of my fellow, newly liberated slaves, and so I'd bribed him with my body to persuade him to fetch our breakfast. Impatiently he'd got the food and joined me in the repast, but then he'd batted my hand away from the last crust. "Methos, you are a terrible tease."

"I'm just hungry, Highlander," I'd said innocently.

"So am I, and I've been starving for months now," he'd said in a low voice which had made my cock fill and the hairs stand up on my neck. He moved the tray, and stripped off his clothes. My God, I recalled so clearly how beautiful he was then - a little too thin, but the softness he had carried as a slave had been burned out of him by his sojourn with Samson. Whipcord hard, muscles in sharp relief, a god incarnate, or so he seemed to my lust-ridden gaze. My throat went dry and I would have reached for drink except I'd known his patience was at an end. "Take your shirt off, Methos - I need to see you."

In a daze, I had done so, and then he kissed me. " _Tha gaol agam ort, mo cridhe, mo leannan,_ " he'd said softly, gentle even in his passion.

Now, I wrapped my arms around me, shivering despite the warmth of the room. All my sorrows now came from Kronos' coming back into my life. Duncan had been disgusted by my necessary killing of a few of Kronos' thuggish soldiers. Now he had my former brother's Quickening, he would know for himself just how much worse my actions had been in the past.

That morning, our cares had lain lightly upon us, as we rediscovered each other's bodies. I stroked the dusky skin of his breast, the hairs springy under my fingers and bent to kiss a nipple but he'd caught my head.

"Love, I want..." He'd blushed, and I had been puzzled, I remembered. Why was he embarrassed?

"What, heart? I cannot deny you anything."

He'd sat back, his expression suddenly masked. "You said that before, and I abused that trust."

It had not been rape, that first time he'd taken me, but there was no love and little gentleness in it. He had fucked me in anger and in sorrow at losing the man he believed me to be. I thought that behind us then, fool that I was. I had not wanted the tainted relationship we had shared, nor anything we had done, to destroy the new life we could have now. "No, Duncan...."

He'd put a finger on my lips. "I did and you never reproached me. Will you let me try again?" For an answer I kissed his finger, then the palm of his hand, and the silky skin on the underside of his wrist, licking it, watching his eyes glaze a little. "Do you have anything?"

Now there was a dilemma - in my old room, I had kept oil on hand to satisfy Kronos, but there was nothing here.... "Butter?" I'd suggested, my eye falling on our abandoned meal.

He'd choked a little with laughter. "A waste of food - but this once ...."

"I won't tell the cook if you don't," I said solemnly, and he laughed out loud. Months later, we would have given up sex for a decade to have tasted it on the dry, flat bread that was almost all we had to eat as we held the siege against Kronos.

Of course we didn't know that then. Duncan had scooped up a fingerful of the delicious golden butter with a smile. "Roll over, old man, and let me see if I can do a better job this time." I'd kissed him, and lay on the bed as he asked. I heard his gasp of shock, and remembered too late about Caspian's mark. "Methos ...."

Now, as I remembered it all, I ran my hand over the tattoo. Caspian had been brutal - when had he ever been otherwise? Cutting me deeply, pouring ink into the gashes, and then fucking me as I lay helpless, trapped by the infernal iron breastplate he had designed to hold me prisoner. It was a curse of Immortality, our strong memory for all things, including pain. Mortals forgot their agony all too quickly ....

I'd tried to pass over it. "It was Caspian ... Duncan, please ignore it."

"I cannae...." he'd whispered in horror. "God, Methos, how could you let him...?" I rolled over and glared at him, revolted at the idea of my consenting to _this_ , and he realised his mistake. His eyes looked his apology. "I'm sorry. You had no choice?"

"He raped me and then he marked me. No, Duncan, Caspian is never about choice."

He'd pulled me close and kissed me. "I'm sorry," he said again. "Why do you put up with me?"

"I really don't know sometimes, Duncan. But don't go all brooding on me."

"Are you planning to help cheer me up?" he asked, slightly slyly. I appreciated he was trying to put the thought of Caspian out of his mind and out of our bed, and I knew exactly how to complete the task.

"Lie down, Duncan." He obeyed, slightly puzzled, and his eyes grew big when I took a little butter on my fingers. I spread a little on his swollen manhood and stroked him with one hand, my other playing gently with his balls. I kissed his stomach, and trailed kisses down to his erection. He nearly leapt off the bed as I took him into my mouth, the fresh butter only adding to the salty, wonderful taste of him.

He'd babbled my name, a sweet sound, as I brought him to climax while stroking myself, the spurting of his essence down my throat followed in seconds by my own, covering his leg with my own seed and resting my head on his thigh. His hands were wrapped in my hair with an infinite gentleness that had not broken even at the height of his orgasm - if I could die like this, stay like this forever, I'd thought then, I would be more content than I had ever dreamed.

And yet now it was all gone, and my heart was as empty as a discarded wine jar. I had worried that my treatment as a slave, my treatment of him would taint our future, but in reality it had been tainted and ruined before I ever met him. I had been right to leave, I knew.

The mirror was blurring before my eyes, and impatient with my own pointless nostalgia, I wiped my face angrily and dressed. I needed company, I needed Amanda. Her brightness would drive away my demons for a while.

She came into the dining room just after I poured myself some wine, and signalled her man to bring in the food. "You look much better, Methos." I kissed her proffered hand.

"I feel better. Thank you."

"Have things been so very bad for you?" she asked kindly, as she sat down.

"It's not a pretty story, nor a short one," I warned again, resigned to her extracting at least some of my history from me.

"We have plenty of time, Methos. And you know I love your stories." She put her head on her hand and looked at me with her enormous brown eyes, and fully expected me to break under their gaze. Which of course I did. I always did.

I gave her the barest possible bones of the sorry tale, mentioning Cassandra but saying only that she had an old grudge against me, and not telling her of my former connection with Kronos and the others. What I did tell her left those beautiful eyes even wider in horror, and when I spoke of being buried alive for two days, she took my hand and stroked it. "Oh, you poor thing," she said in sympathy. "And what happened to the people in the castle?"

"They're all safe. Hiding in the woods over the winter. There are some good, wise leaders among them. They'll do very well."

"They'd have done better if you stayed," she pointed out.

"It was past time for me to leave. Besides, the place held too many evil memories."

She nodded understandingly and we finished the fine meal in silence. She poured me more wine and led me to the fire to sit in a comfortable chair there. "And who was it that broke your heart, Methos?" she said, tracing a finger down my cheek.

"What the devil are you talking about, Amanda?" I said roughly.

"Come on, I can see it - here, and here," she said, touching my face. "Same as me, dear man. Did someone die?"

"No. You are mistaken. I have endured some hardship, I've just bored you stupid over supper telling you about it. That's all." I knew it sounded unconvincing but I stared into the fire, ignoring her steady gaze. After a minute or two, she began to talk about something inconsequential, and I felt relieved that the moment had passed.

We did not sit long - she was tired from her journey from the south, and I was exhausted by the experiences not just of that day but of the weeks and months before that. She led me by the hand to my room, and then kissed my cheek affectionately. "Sleep well, Methos. You are quite safe here. Naught will assail you."

"Only my dreams of you, my dear," I said gallantly, which made her smile. She patted my cheek, then left me to go to her own room.

I had not slept alone these many months, but my body's weariness would not be gainsaid and I barely remember laying my head on the pillow. At once, or so it seemed, I was swamped, drowning. Gasping for breath, suffocating, struggling against an unknown crushing weight. My arms were held down and I screamed with the little breath I had....

"Methos!" I was shaken hard. "Wake up!"

I opened my eyes and saw Amanda's concerned face inches from my own. "What...?"

"You were shouting, old man. Frightening the servants." She was dressed in a warm wrap and carrying a candle which she put on a table beside the bed. "Move over."

"What are you doing, dear girl?" I asked, even as I did as she asked.

"Methos, it's perfectly obvious you are troubled, and I would not leave anyone to suffer thus. I can give you comfort if you will let me..."

"I'm all right, Amanda, really..."

"And sometimes I wish someone could hold me. It's been so lonely since John died."

What was I to do in the face of that? I held the blankets back and let her in. She blew out the candle and snuggled close. This was not the first time she had shared my bed - I remembered more than once when Rebecca and she both warmed my sheets to the mutual enjoyment of all - but I was hardly in the mood for love. "Amanda, my darling lass, do you think this is a good idea?"

"Am I offending you, Methos? I'll go..." I held onto her arm.

"Not at all, dear - but I'm tired and doubt I can do honour to your considerable charms."

I could almost hear the pout. "I only want to _sleep_ , Methos. I just thought you wouldn't make so much noise if there was someone here to hold you when you had a nightmare."

The charitable lie warmed me to my core, and I pulled her close and kissed her at the nape of her neck. "And you are right. I apologise for my presumption. Are you comfortable?"

She turned and draped herself half on top of me like a kitten. " _Now_ I am. Good night, old man." She kissed me chastely on the lips and promptly fell asleep.

Whether because of her presence, or because of my own exhaustion, I had no more dreams that I could recall, and I woke well-rested and in a far better mood than the day before (which would not have been difficult, for sure). She was still asleep and I was well content to look on her beauty. No matter how long I have lived, the miracle of our eternal youth never struck me more than when I beheld a woman like Amanda. Forever young. Forever exquisite. The late, lamented John had won a treasure indeed. She opened her eyes as I gazed at her. "Hello," I said. "Did you sleep well?"

"Mmmm, very well, thank you for letting me stay."

I settled her in my arms again. "It is I who should be grateful, and well you know it, madam. You have grown wise in your old age, I think."

"It's as well some of us have," she said tartly, albeit with a smile which I did not even try to resist kissing. She stretched under my embrace, managing to rub herself enticingly in all the most interesting places, which were certainly ... interested.

"Amanda?" I asked, not sure whether it was invitation or merely play.

"Make love to me, Methos," she said softly, twisting again, sending pleasure shooting through my groin. Little minx, she knew exactly what she was doing to me and I needed no more urging. Carefully I unlaced the ties of her fine linen nightgown, to reveal the perfect breasts hidden there, softly illuminated by the dawn light.

"You are beautiful, Amanda," I murmured, bending to kiss her in the hollow between her breasts. I cupped one so I could gently lick her nipple and she sighed, her hand coming up to my hair to tangle her fingers in it. I bestowed some time upon her nipple, relishing the way it rose under my lips. My other hand was wrapped under her, holding her close.

I laved the buds of her breasts and kissed my way up the long white neck to her sweet lips. "Methos," she whispered like a prayer.

"Take this off," I said impatiently, tugging at the gown, already pulling it up her long body. She shifted and in a single easy movement, it was off and cast aside. She poked my shirt, wanting reciprocation, which she gained immediately, and then we were hot skin against skin. I could have cried for the relief of having a warm body against me - for I thought I had forsaken this when I rode away from Duncan yesterday.

And why was I thinking of him when I had this loveliness beneath me, writhing with desire, and breathing little sighs of pleasures as I cupped and stroked her firm breasts, and licked at the hollow of her jaw? Her hands danced over my back, touching my buttocks, urging me closer, to rub against her. I slid a hand between us, to rest over her mons. "Yes, Methos, please?" she begged.

I eased a gently teasing finger into her cleft and she arched up against me in wordless approval. It had been so long since I had had a willing female body to pleasure - I wanted to savour each moment, each sound, each scent. "You taste of honey, you always did," I murmured against her stomach and I felt her laugh. I moved down, careful to give worship to every silken inch until my mouth was against her mound. Her breathing quickened in anticipation.

A single lick against her cleft, barely touching the source of her pleasure, and another helpless cry. God, she tasted so sweet. I parted her thighs and rubbed the labia with my thumbs as I licked again in long strokes, letting my teeth graze gently now and then over her clitoris until she was incoherent. "Oh more, Methos, please don't tease me so!" she cried.

I lifted her shapely calves over my shoulders so I could plunge between her thighs, taking her with my tongue, thrusting in and she arched off the bed, clutching my hair in her passion. I took my time, not neglecting the nub that roused her, nor forgetting to savour her taste. Ah, Kronos, I thought, you never knew this pleasure, so intent on your own. Once I knew no better either, until Cassandra....

"Oh, stop, Methos," she said urgently. "Do not make me come yet."

Her pleasure was always that I took mine first, for she grew too sensitive otherwise, so I reluctantly abandoned her secret place and sat up, her legs still over my shoulders. I bent her double so I could kiss her breasts again. "Do you want me, Amanda?"

"Oh, yes, Methos! Now!" she cried out, so wanton and needy that my sex hardened even more, although I would have thought that impossible. I eased inside her - so very hot, and silken - and she sighed with contentment.

I began to thrust and she moved in rhythm with me, her inner muscles holding me tightly. "Oh, my sweet Amanda, I could fuck you forever," I murmured.

"Yes, Methos, and I could let you forever - oh, please, harder, man! I shan't break!" she said impatiently, her brown eyes flashing. I grinned and took her at her word - she was strong indeed, from sword practice and doubtless a good deal of horse riding, and I had no fear of hurting her, only of offending her by less than due skill. Her breasts filled my hands and I kneaded them as she urged me to go harder, faster, deeper into her lovely heat.

She clutched my buttocks, pulling me closer as if she wanted me to climb inside her. I could not make things last as long as she, or I, would have wanted. With a cry I came, her nails digging hard into my backside and the slight pain and my pleasure mingled into one mighty wave of bliss. I had to be careful not to collapse on her - that would have been a clumsiness unworthy of both of us - but instead I withdrew, so I could replace my cock with my eager tongue. She was very close and her orgasm rippled under my mouth, her hands now in my hair, tugging painfully as she rode out her passion. She lay panting as I cleaned her carefully of our mingled juices, delighting in the evidence of our lovemaking.

"Methos, come to me, my dear man." Willingly I slid up beside her and she took my mouth in a deep kiss before curling around me. I pulled the covers over both of us - the room was not that warm.

"Darling Amanda, thank you. You are, as always, a treasure and a delight for the senses." I kissed her on the cheek and she closed her eyes contentedly. It was yet early, the household only just stirring, and I had no great desire to do aught but sleep.

Not so my lovely companion. "So his name is Duncan?" she said with a drowsiness I knew perfectly well was feigned.

My contentment disappeared in a flash. "Whose name?" I said in irritation.

She leaned up on an elbow and traced my jaw. "The one who broke your heart."

"Amanda...."

"Methos... We're old friends, you and I. I know you too well, and know you are carrying a heavy pain. And when a man calls another's name as he comes, I think a woman can draw certain conclusions."

I was utterly mortified. "Oh, my dear, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to insult you."

She smiled. "I'm not insulted - not unless I do remind you of a man?"

I kissed her smiling mouth. "Not in any way. You are the quintessential woman, Aphrodite incarnate."

She settled back down on the pillow. "So, tell me about him," she commanded.

I sighed. "It's in the past, Amanda. Over and done with."

"Liar. Now indulge me - is he handsome?"

"Yes."

"Rich?"

"Not at all. Poorer than a church mouse."

She pulled a face. "Noble, brave and honourable?"

"In every way imaginable."

"Sounds dull."

I had to laugh, even though it hurt. "Oh, he is very dull. And stupid and ugly and inconsiderate..."

"And loves you not at all and you hate him with every fibre of your being?"

"Yes."

"Liar," she grinned. "So why, not that I am complaining, mind, are you not in bed with this paragon?"

"It's a...."

She finished for me. "Long story, yes, so you said. I knew it had to be a failed love affair which made you act so foolishly - God, to travel in those woods alone, without warm clothing, nor any plan save to reach the coast. You were never so foolish before except in affairs of the heart."

I snorted. "So sayeth the maid Amanda, who was ever wise in love."

She poked me. "I have more sense than you showed yesterday. Tell me truly, Methos - does this wonder really love you not?"

"I disgust him," I said, my voice suddenly thick with emotion.

"Somehow I doubt that," she said dryly, touching my cheek. "You said things were unhappy at this castle. Are you not simply blaming him for your ill-fortune?"

I started to say 'of course not' but then I replayed our parting again in my mind. "You are going to leave," he'd said, and I had chosen to see that as an order. He had made not a word of protest, telling me to do what I wanted, to take the horse and whatever else I needed, and then he had walked away. I wanted him to beg me, dammit! To prove that Kronos' Quickening had not changed his feelings, his opinion of me. To trust that I would stay if he asked it - but he did not. And I was so hurt and wounded, I could not fight his indifference. I could not fight it now.

"Methos, don't distress yourself," Amanda said gently, wiping moisture from my cheek. "Come, let us break our fast. We can talk later."

I hugged her close. "Oh, dear lady, I am so glad it was you who found me yesterday."

She brushed my hair off my face. "So I may do, but there is another with greater power than I to make you happy, and I am sure he will, if you let him. Now let us dress and eat."

She slipped away to her own room and I dressed in solitude. I looked again at my reflection in the mirror - I could easily see the signs of grief that she remarked upon. Well, of course I was unhappy - I had been wrenched from a safe, easy life, tortured for months, tormented by enemy and supposed friend alike, and then had had to spend an interminable period trying to ensure the safety of a bunch of mortals who were doubtless only too glad to see the back of me. Duncan was the least of it. Then I looked myself in the eye. Liar, I told myself.

Amanda was the picture of groomed composure as we sat down to our meal. "Now, Methos, how long will you stay?"

"A couple of days only, dear, I want to get on with my interrupted life."

"Can you stay long enough to help me with John's library? So many books, I know I shall never read them all, and some are very valuable. I would like your advice."

"Of course, it would be a pleasure."

She smiled. "Good, then it's settled. And then, if it pleases you, you and I shall travel to London. I too have business to conduct there, and your company would be welcome."

Little vixen, I knew what she was up to, and I touched her cheek in acknowledgement of her transparent kindness. "That would be my pleasure, and my honour. I should warn you, I have no funds until I get to London."

She made a dismissing motion with her hand. "Think nothing of it, Methos. If you feel there is debt, you can repay me later, but I cannot imagine a skinny thing like you could eat much, and you can have the clothes as soon as Marie adjusts them. As for London, I have a house there too. You could stay there as long as you like."

"You have become my fairy godmother, Amanda?"

She looked at me seriously. "You need help, my dear man. And you have helped me in the past and doubtless will in the future, if I need it. True?"

"Yes, of course. Thank you."

She had spoken nothing but the truth when she said there were many books to be sorted out. Her late husband had clearly been a greater bibliophile than I was, which was no small thing, and there were boxes of books yet unshelved, catalogues and papers and bills.... I was half envious, half annoyed. Books were a treasure indeed, but only if they were used and treated well. But Amanda merely looked sad when I questioned her about the state of the room. "He was very ill for a long time, Methos. These became his only pleasure - I think he hoped that he would one day recover and read them all." I was then ashamed of my hasty judgement of her dead lover.

There were many fine items, and Amanda caught me sighing yet again over a beautifully engraved tome of Italian verse. "What's wrong, old man?"

"Just remembering my own library, in Heidelberg." I laid the lovely thing down with regret, adding it to the list we were making, along with a suggested value. Amanda had said she was going to dispose of most of the books, she had no need for them, and the money was more use to her in the end, for when she had to abandon her present identity. She'd already offered them to me, but reluctantly, I had declined. I was in no position to take on such bulky possessions.

"Your wife, would she have sold them?"

"Probably. I don't know. I wish there was some way of finding out how she is." A deep pang of regret and longing struck me - I truly missed Maria's company at times. She had been one of my more congenial spouses, and a good, wise friend to me. I sighed again.

"Oh, Methos, you really aren't happy, are you?"

I brushed aside her gentle concern. "Nay, lass, I am being self-pitying. It is the fate of Immortals to leave aside their lives from time to time, you know that."

She came and sat on the stool at my feet. "Still, it seems unfair. Perhaps I could contact her, discreetly, you understand ... perhaps buy your books for you? See if she is well?"

Her offer took my breath away - for many months I had dreamed of somehow being able to set my mind at ease over this, and here was a simple plan that would do so. "Do you really think you could do this?"

She shrugged. "Why ever not? It's possible she doesn't even think you are dead - you might be able to return after all. Would you like that?"

I couldn't resist - I swooped her up in my arms and kissed her. "Oh, if you could do this, I swear I would love you forever!"

She put a hand to her forehead and pantomimed a swoon. "Oh, Methos! If this is all it would take to win your love, I would have done it years ago." Then she slapped me gently in reproach. "But does that mean you don't love me now?" She batted her long lashes at me playfully.

"I love you, I worship you, I grovel at your perfect feet. Look," and I dropped and rested my forehead on her dainty shoes. She nudged me with a slippered foot.

"Oh, get up, you silly man." She was smiling as I rose. "Then it is settled. We will do what we can to repair the damage that whoreson did to your life, and then you can be happy again."

I bent low and kissed her hand. "I am more grateful than I have words for, milady. You do Rebecca's teaching great honour."

"She misses you, Methos. I missed you," she said quietly.

"I'm sorry, lass. Sometimes I have to disappear for a while - you know what it's like."

"But you're not a thief," she said with false innocence rounding her eyes.

"No - but you are," I teased.

"Not at the moment. Not unless I have to be," she said indignantly, but she softened as I kissed her again. "Now, enough of this, or we shall never finish."

"Yes, madam slave driver," I saluted.

 

* * *

 

We worked all day. Amanda was mightily curious about my time in Cassandra's keep and I was just as determined to distract her from the subject. Instead we talked about her husband, about his estate, about the farms - which led us back to the castle and its people. "Will they stay in the ruins?"

"I have no idea. They could rebuild - the main structure is still sound and will protect them. The lands are very rich and provided the tenants respect the authority of the castle's inhabitants, I see no reason why they should not do well."

"And your Duncan will lead them?"

Sly minx. "Perhaps," I said noncommittally. "There are several good men - and women. They lack neither bravery nor counsel. The biggest danger comes from outside - do you know the cur Kalas?"

She made a most unladylike face. "Him! He still lives? He stole from me and left me to take his punishment in Norwich, fifty years ago. I would take his head on the spot if he were here."

"He lives, but we made life uncomfortable for him. He wanted to take the castle for himself but we disobliged him. But there are others who will not accept that Cassandra's title can pass to her former slaves." As I spoke, a pang of anxiety shot through me. Had I left Duncan - the others - undefended as all that? We had been so busy defending against Kronos' siege that the danger from our hostile neighbours had retreated in importance, but it was still there for all that.

"Thinking of him?" she asked gently.

"No. Just of many things." I doubt she believed me. "Amanda, let it be, dear girl."

"Methos, you can't run away from this, you know. He is no passing fancy, we both know that."

"He is a child."

"How old - twenty? Less?"

"Uh, a hundred," I mumbled.

"What! Another Immortal?" She stared in shock. "You've fallen in love with one of us? Methos!"

"Why so surprised?" I asked defensively.

"You know how risky that is, my man, don't play the fool. He'll lose you your head - no wonder you fled from him."

"That isn't the reason.... look, Amanda, his Immortality isn't the problem ..."

Those lovely brown eyes turned sharp, reminding me that for all her kittenish ways, Amanda was a highly intelligent, not to say highly experienced, woman. "Then what is the problem, Methos? It sounds as if he is perfection. Are you the problem then?"

"Yes, I suppose I am."

"Then there is no problem," she said firmly, taking me by the arms and making me look at her full in the face. "Methos, you are also brave, and good, and handsome, and honourable...." I snorted. "... in your funny way. You two sound like a perfect match - if you really don't mind him being Immortal. Why are you torturing yourself so?"

I resisted the temptation of breaking free from her grasp roughly, but she saw my expression and let me go. "Maid, this does not concern you. I love you dearly, but at the risk of our friendship, I warn you - let this be." She went very still at my stern words, and I was sorry to offend her, for she meant only the best for me. "Dear one, I say this only because I am weak and have been hurt. Have mercy on a tired man?"

She looked at me for a long moment, then sighed. "As you wish, Methos. But I will say this, and then leave it. You are a damn fool to throw away such love."

"That's as may be. Now, shall we see what your cook has prepared for our supper?"

 

* * *

 

She didn't even ask before joining me in my bed, and again urged me to make love to her, something which I was more than glad to do. Her uncomplicated enjoyment of the act, her ease and skill, made it an uplifting, healing experience, a balm on my troubled soul.

I didn't remember dreaming but Amanda was watching me, unsmiling, as I woke. Her normally warm eyes were cold. "How do you know Kronos?" she asked, her voice vibrating with suppressed emotion.

"Kronos?" My heart went ice cold within my chest.

"You were calling - shouting - his name."

"How do _you_ know Kronos?" I asked, hoping to deflect her question.

"I don't. Rebecca does, or did." She sat, drawing her knees protectively up under her chin. "We ... encountered him once, in a group of people so he could make no Challenge. Rebecca nearly fainted with shock - I had to almost carry her home. She told me the story. He raped her, Methos."

"When?" I whispered. Dear God.

"A thousand years ago," she said impatiently. "Does it matter? It doesn't to a woman. And he didn't just rape her once, he took her captive and made her his whore until she escaped. When she told me, I swore by all I held holy that I would kill the son of a bitch if I ever met him again. So tell me, for the love of God, where can I find him now?"

There was hardly any trace of the playful lover of the night before in her harsh words and her cold expression, so full of hate. "He's dead, Amanda. Rebecca is avenged."

"Is this true? Are you sure?"

"I was there when he died. I swear, he is dead."

She sagged in apparent relief. "But how do you come to know that pig? Did he capture you too?"

"We encountered each other recently. It was not a happy experience."

Her eyes narrowed. "So it was not you who killed him - then who?"

"It's not important...."

"Was it this Duncan MacLeod?" Damn the child, she was too perspicacious by half. I nodded. "But how? When?"

I took her hands. "The man - the men - who took the castle from Cassandra. They were Kronos and his brothers, Caspian and Silas."

She sucked in a breath. "Oh, my God. Methos, I'm sorry. I mean, Rebecca told me what manner of men they were. It must have been a cruel time for you."

"Yes. But let's not ...."

"But I don't understand. Why would he suddenly come to a place so far from his stronghold in the North? Rebecca said he was based close to the border in Scotland. Did he know Cassandra?"

I desperately wanted this conversation to be over, but Amanda was like a terrier with a rat, and the more I tried to deflect her, the more suspicious she became. Telling the truth - or half truth - was all that would quiet her. "Cassandra was a former slave of Kronos and the others. He discovered where she lived and decided to have more sport with her."

"He must have been insane."

"Yes. And forgive me, my dear, but this is a painful subject for me, and I would rather not dwell on it." I put on a pitiful expression and she kissed me in apology.

"I'm sorry, Methos. Of course we won't talk of it. But I rejoice that he is dead."

So did I, but if my sweet companion learned of my past, she would rejoice less, I knew.

 

* * *

 

Learning that Amanda knew of Kronos gave me added impetus to be gone to London, and since there was no reason to delay, we departed on my fifth day at her house. It took us most of two days to get there since we felt there was no need for indecent haste.

There was a winter storm just as we broke our journey on the first day, and the subsequent hard frost slowed our pace. Still, we arrived at her pretty little house in Chelsea at nightfall the second day, and found all in readiness for our arrival. "My people have orders," she explained simply when I asked. I was grateful - the journey had been tiring, and the weather bitterly cold, sapping our strength. I'd chosen to help drive the little carriage, and the exercise had been more than I was yet entirely up to. I needed to rebuild my strength and refresh my skills, I realised.

Her house was not in London itself, but it was not inconveniently placed, being on the river, and had the incomparable benefit of not being subjected to the filth or the fire dangers of the city itself. Chelsea was a quiet, rural village as yet, but I had seen such in other locations become highly fashionable and desirable places to live. Amanda's late husband had chosen well for their town residence.

There was no suggestion that I would be sleeping in a guest room - she led me, as of right, to her own bedroom after our meal. "Will you stay a few days?" she asked, settling herself in my arms.

"Yes - until you go. There is no great hurry, and it will take me a little time to arrange passage to the Continent."

She sighed deeply. "I wish I could give you a reason to stay, Methos. I like having you around."

I kissed the top of her hair. "I like being around, Amanda, but I've never found a good reason to settle in England. Perhaps in a few years. Just let me recover a little of what I have lost."

"We can never do that, old man," she said, unexpectedly serious. "All we can do is build anew." She held my hand to her breast. "I would give you wherewithal to do so, if you let me."

I was very tempted. My companion was lovely beyond measure, she had wealth and connections. Life would be comfortable and safe. And dull. Fatally for her wishes, I had tasted a heady wine beyond any I had ever imagined, and the sweet cordial she offered now was insipid beside it. I didn't answer her, pretending to drowse, and although I doubted she was truly fooled, after another deep sigh, she fell quiet, and was then quickly asleep.

It was very cold and icy the next morning, but there was a bright sun, and little wind. Amanda's manservant rowed us up the Thames to London. She had many errands, not least of which was arranging the sale of her valuable books, and although I also had things I wished to do, it would be churlish to allow her to wander about the crowded streets without escort. I stole an hour to attend to the most urgent of my own enquiries, and then gave myself over to her service.

Beyond my suggesting a couple of places where she might try to sell the books, she needed no advice in that way, and I watched with no small admiration as she drove a hard bargain for herself. Female Immortals have all the difficulties of mortal women, with the added burden of never being able to breed themselves into power and influence. Any Immortal woman over the age of a hundred was as tough or tougher than any man I could wish for. The winning thing with Amanda was how silken was the sheath over the steel.

I think it amused Amanda to play the lady, carrying her basket like a good mistress of the house. It flattered my pride to accompany such a handsome woman on the street - she attracted a great deal of covert and overt admiration, and she had made sure my costume matched her elegance. After over a year of imprisonment and concealment, it seemed a little strange, and wonderful, to be among normal, admiring people, and I had to admit it did my spirit a great deal of good.

She gossiped happily as we made our way back down the river, making good speed with the tide in our favour. We would probably go back up to London the following day, or the next - as it was, her parcels were a considerable burden for her long-suffering man to carry ahead of us back to the house. She insisted she wanted to walk into the village to buy apples.

"You can carry this domesticated womanhood thing a little far, you know," I laughed at her as her red mouth took a bite out of a green apple. She offered me a nibble. It was sharp and delicious - and probably exactly the same as the apples she had eschewed in London.

"It never hurts to reacquaint myself with the locals, old man."

As she spoke, I stiffened, as did she just after. Twice that day we had felt the distant brush of Immortal presence, but that was not to be remarked on in London. But here ... it boded ill. Our caution was soon justified. A man stepped out of the deepening shadows. Kalas. He looked more than a little ragged. Had life been hard for milord since we drove him away from the castle? My heart did not exactly bleed for him

Amanda's hand on my arm gripped hard enough to bruise, and I risked a quick glance at her - she was white with rage and fear, and I saw her sword arm moving under her cloak, reaching for her weapon. I held her to me, hampering her reach, even as I drew my own sword.

"Ah, the fair lady Amanda," Kalas sneered. "Or do you go by some other name now?"

"None that I care to sully by having your tongue upon it," she spat back.

"And I see you have risen so far to have a slave defend you."

"You were bested by slaves last I saw you, Kalas," I pointed out in my most reasonable and annoying voice. "And it will not take so many to remove your head. I suggest you leave ere you encounter my sword at close hand."

"But of course you are not just a slave, are you, _Methos_?" he snarled, not backing off at all. Amanda gasped at his knowing my real name, but I ignored her to keep my mind on the threat he presented. "I met your comrades, did you know that? Master Kronos was not best pleased to hear that his brother had joined forces with the servants."

"Methos? You and Kronos?" I did not need to turn to know what expression Amanda wore, nor did milord Kalas miss her horror. He correctly divined the cause.

"Did you not know, Amanda? Your companion was one of the four Horsemen, killing and raping alongside Kronos and his charming friends. Do you feel so safe now?"

"No," she gasped out. "It's not true. Methos, it's not true, is it?"

I glanced quickly at her, but then faced our enemy as I spoke. "Amanda, leave, go home. I'll meet you there...."

"You lied! You were his _brother_? Keep away from me, you monster!" she shouted angrily, and I heard her run. It was the reaction I had most feared, even as I had predicted it.

Kalas sneered with evil delight at what he had wrought. "I was going to take your miserable head, old man, but I think it will be more fun to see how you soothe our pretty maid's hurt feelings." He saluted me sardonically with his blade, and as I sprang forward to take him, he danced away. Torn as I was between going after Amanda and ensuring her safety, and wanting my revenge, he took his opportunity to escape. For a moment, I cursed him, but there was no time to lose, he might go after Amanda and I could not allow that.

She was walking fast, her eyes running with tears, and she screeched with rage as I took her arm. "Get away from me, you bastard! You're no better than he was. How could you, Methos? How could you call that animal your brother?" We were attracting unwelcome attention, and despite her objections, I seized her arm hard and dragged her towards the house.

"Be still, woman, if you don't want to be burnt as a witch or worse," I hissed. Her manservant opened the door, and for a moment I feared Amanda would tell him to bar my entrance. Instead, she dismissed him curtly, then drew her sword.

"Oh, put it away, girl - what do you think you are doing? Challenging me, in your own home? I was always better than you, you know that, and I have no wish for your pretty head."

"No, but I want you dead," she shouted. "This is for Rebecca, you whoreson."

She leaped at me, swinging wildly, her emotion overcoming her own great skill, but for several moments, she had me on the run. But I quickly disarmed her, and pinned her arms behind her. "Stop it, child. Neither of us needs to die today."

"Get out! Leave my home, and never return, you bastard," she sobbed, struggling under my hold.

"Stop, Amanda. Let me explain. Please. Darling girl, please don't do this." I moved her to a chair and pinned her down. She spat in my face, but I ignored it. "Don't, Amanda," I murmured, trying to gentle her with my words and tone of my voice, as I would a crazed horse.

"You lied! Kronos came for you, not Cassandra!"

"He came for both of us, and killed her and took me under his control. I didn't lie - I was enslaved, and when Kronos came, I merely exchanged one form of slavery for another. I had no choice, Amanda. None at all. All I could to was try to keep all the others alive. And we did, Duncan and I and the others. We defeated them, I killed Silas, Duncan killed Kronos and Caspian. They were no brothers of mine."

"But they were once. You rode with them."

"Yes. Thousands of years ago, child."

"Thousands... how old are you?" she whispered in awe and terror.

"Four and a half thousand. More than twice Rebecca's age."

She looked dazed as if the weight of my years had hit her physically. "Four thousand ... when did you leave him?"

"Before Rebecca was born. Yes, I did many, many evil things. What Kronos did to Rebecca, I did to Cassandra - that is why she wanted to enslave me in turn. But I'm not like that any more. My dear, you _know_ me. You have known me for hundreds of years. Could I do that to you now? To Rebecca?"

"How do I know? I did not know what you were."

I took her by the shoulders, shaking her carefully. "Use your eyes, your brain - your heart, girl. Am I like that now? Truly? Could Rebecca trust someone who was like that?"

"She didn't know...."

"She _did_ know, Amanda. I'm sorry, I misled you. I knew what Kronos had done a long time ago, and I confessed to her my part in the Horsemen. I trust her, lass, and she trusts me. Ask her. I will leave, and you can ask her if you choose."

"You are lying again. Everything you said was a lie."

"Some things were. I'm sorry, I had to protect myself, and I was telling the truth - it was the cause of much pain for me." She sat still, stunned, and too shocked to make more struggle. I wiped her spittle from my face with my handkerchief, and then took her hand. "What Kronos and the others did to the slaves in the castle - to Duncan - I could never forget or forgive. And I too was taken against my will, I too was assaulted and enslaved. I was well punished for my crimes. If you say it is not enough, then take my head now, for I cannot offer more." We stared into each other's eyes. The hurt and betrayal I saw there was such a mirror of what I had seen a few months earlier in Duncan's eyes - brown like hers - that I could have wept for my shame. "Amanda, lovely girl, I would never, never harm you. Or Rebecca. I've changed. I don't know how to make you believe that."

She sobbed and hid her face, but she let me stroke her hair, and as I pulled her close in a careful embrace, she cried bitterly. "I want to believe you," she said in a muffled, ragged voice.

"Trust your heart, Amanda. That's all you can do."

"This is why you said you disgusted your Duncan," she said, lifting her head.

"Yes."

"Did you rape him? Did you hurt him?"

"Not more than I had to, to save his life. He understood."

"But he hates you now? That's what you think?"

"Not ... hate ... but he took Kronos' Quickening, he knows what I was, what happened to me."

"How you killed and ravaged the innocent?" she said harshly.

"That ... and other matters."

She seized my head. "What other matters, Methos? Do not lie to me any more, or I swear by Rebecca I will kill you here and now!"

"Amanda, they do not touch on what I was, or on Rebecca...."

"Tell me, Methos," she demanded. But then her manner softened. "Please, I need to understand."

I let her go and walked away. "May we sit and have some wine? This is not easy for either of us."

She rang a bell and ordered us refreshment. I noted that she kept her sword in sight, but her manner spoke of confusion more than anything. I was well weary of this, destroying the trust of those I loved, and cursed again that I had ever been part of the madness of the Horsemen. I poured out the wine with a hand I discovered was shaking - she placed hers over mine and assisted me. "My thanks," I said formally, handed her the goblet.

"Sit, Methos. My god, man, you are as pale as a ghost."

"You are pale also, my lady. Forgive me, these are not matters I would have brought to your door."

"We can thank that wretch Kalas for that. I should have taken his head when I had the chance. Now, speak."

It was not easy, but nothing less than full frankness would do now, so I told her of how I came to be with the Horsemen, how it was that I came to be disillusioned with them and tried to leave, and what Kronos did to prevent me. By the end of my narrative, she had covered her mouth as if she were going to be sick, and I poured her another goblet of wine and made her drink it. "It was all very long ago, Amanda. Do not let it distress you."

"How could you stand it?" she whispered, tears running from her eyes.

"It was nothing more than we inflicted on our captives, save that, being mortal, they usually died. It was fitting. All I care about now is that you understand that I am not like that any more. Do you believe me?"

"Yes," she said in a tiny voice, but then more clearly. "Yes, I do. You say that this Duncan knew all this, and loves you yet. And so do I."

I laughed dryly, to stop myself sobbing. "He is unlikely to love me still. Remember whose memories he carries."

"But he is not Kronos, for all that. He will pity you, as I do. He will hate what you did in the past, as I do. Methos, you are not being fair to him, not half as fair as he has been to you. You love him?"

"Amanda...."

"Methos, tell the truth."

"Yes, I love him, for all the good it will do me. It is better...."

"That you swallow that damnable pride of yours and return to him." Her face was still streaked with tears, and I took her handkerchief from her belt and wiped them carefully from her skin. Then I bent and kissed her brow. "You know I'm right," she said softly.

"Minutes ago you wanted to kill me, and now you are making a love match for me." I shook my head in mock confusion. "Amanda, you are an amazing creature," I said fondly.

"Has there not been enough death? Do I have so many friends - do you - that we can kill one another so easily? That we can forsake love so easily?"

"It is hardly easy, my child."

"Do not let Kronos ruin another life, Methos," she said fiercely. "I will not let Kalas' spite come between us, you must go back and mend your fences with your Highlander."

"Dear girl," I said, kneeling and taking her hand. "There is something more pressing. Kalas said he was going to watch how you dealt with ... with his revelations ... and I am sure he is lying in wait. I must deal with him." I stood but she clutched my arm.

"No! Methos, we shall both ...."

"No. It is not our way and I will not risk you. I am the better fighter of the two of us. Besides, I have my own score to settle with Lord Kalas."

"We could leave ...."

"He knows we are here, and he knows who I am. He will not abandon the prize, and I cannot risk what he might attempt. Amanda, think of your people. Stay, protect them." I kissed her hand. "And I will come back before long, I promise."

"Methos," she said on a sob. "I'm sorry for what I said ...."

"It doesn't matter, child." I kissed her forehead, and then her lips. "Give me your favour. I will wear it and fight for both of us."

She cast about for a suitable item and finally unfastened her elegant embroidered belt, looping it carefully on mine, out of the way of my sword. "Come back safely to me, Methos."

"As my lady wishes. " I bowed formally, and she graced me with a tear-drenched smile as I left.

I had no real wish to fight this bastard, but I had not lied to Amanda - to leave him was to invite a viper into our nest, and the man had already threatened me and those I cared about three times. He would not do so again.

It was as I suspected - he was lurking nearby, in the shadows of an animal stall. "Did our fair lady throw you out of her house, sirrah?" he said with a sneer, walking out of the gloom.

"Not at all. She gave me her favour to wear while I take your worthless head." I knew he could see the gold thread glistening in the torchlight illuminating the street and I saw his surprise. Weren't expecting that, were you, I thought. "Shall we take this somewhere less public?"

He was carrying a torch, as was I, but I waited until he lit his own before igniting mine, not wishing to give him the advantage of my blindness in the sudden flare of light. We walked a little way into a fallow field, and jammed our torches into the ground. It was a moonless, very cold night that promised snow - the ground was icy and rough, not ideal for a Challenge, but needs must. I heard, more than saw, him draw his sword and pulled my own weapon - not Kronos', but one better, found for me by Amanda from her store. I was glad I had spent time during the day discreetly getting used to its heft and the balance.

"You don't have your women to defend you now," he snarled, circling warily.

"I prefer to let my women deal with those who need no better opponent," I said, silently apologising to my brave Valkyries for slighting them so, but if milord got angry, he would get careless.

"Or perhaps you habitually hide behind their skirts, just as you did this afternoon." He was keeping his temper, for now, the bastard.

"I fancy hiding behind them is the only time you come near a woman of Amanda's beauty, Kalas. Someone with your scars probably can't even hire a whore for a five minute fucking."

He growled and moved in carelessly, where I could swipe and slash his arm. So that is your weakness? Your far from pretty looks? I didn't know or care about the cause of the scars on his throat but it gave me an advantage. "What happened, sirrah? Did she cut your throat for your lack of skill or did you try to kill yourself and fail as miserably as you did in taking our castle? You don't make a very edifying specimen to Challenge, you know. Barely worth wasting time cleaning a blade over."

"Do you plan to cut me down with your wit or your sword, you effete bastard?" He swore - I sliced him again and danced out of his reach. He was taller, heavier than me, but that made him more clumsy.

"Which would you prefer, milord? Your neck will be damaged whichever I choose. Consider it a favour - a botched effort like that," I sneered, waving at the scars. "It's a wonder the children don't scream when they see you."

"You'll be none too pretty when I finish with you!" he said angrily, leaping forward. I dodged him easily, and struck again - but I couldn't quite get close enough for a fatal cut.

I made an elaborate yawn. "Finish with me? God, man, you'll never _start_ at this rate. Who taught you to fight? Your wet nurse?" I'd fought Kalases before. Proud, vain, rigid men, in love with their own masculinity and certain that Immortality equated with godhead. I used to be one. And then I grew up. Kalas was the type of man who would never change. That was his weakness.

Take the way he was fighting - using his sword more like a club than a fine piece of Toledo steel. The sort of fighting that worked from the back of a horse, which was doubtless where he fought most of his battles, but which was completely unsuitable for the terrain we were on. The oaf was boring me, and it was cold. I wanted to finish this soon but he was still mouthing puerile insults and dancing about, so there was nothing for it but to engage him more aggressively and get him to come closer. It worked and I impaled him, unfortunately not fatally, through the side. But then he twisted his body on my blade, trapping and turning it, slicing at me, and as I leaped back to free myself from his trick, I tripped on a clod of dirt, falling. He roared his rage and swung, seeking to take instant advantage of my plight, and only by blocking quickly did I keep my head. I was in trouble - I usually carried a second blade but I was temporarily embarrassed by the lack of one.

I scrabbled at the soil but it was too hard and frozen to grab and fling into his ugly face.... he pressed in, forcing my blade against my face. My free hand brushed something and in desperation, I seized it. Amanda's belt, with the metal clasp .... I whipped it across his eyes and he fell back with a scream of agony. I didn't wait to see what damage I'd caused the whoreson, I slashed at the hands clutching his face, and cut through them and his neck in one mighty blow. The body fell heavily in its several pieces.

I knelt, waiting for the Quickening. Oh, I loathed these things - and I had experienced them twice in a week. I had not wanted them, and I especially did not want this bastard's. Helpless as the power ripped through me, I was astonished, even horrified, at the force of the thing, which lifted and twisted me in the air like a demon. Well it was that we were in an empty field, for it would have set a hay field alight, and any building likewise. I thought _I_ would be set alight for a while there, and my bones felt as though they were filled with hot lead, my skin as if I had been flayed.

Painful though it was, it was blessedly brief, and I could not allow time to recover, not here. I reacted instinctively as a hand grasped my arm, but I looked up into the eyes of Douglas, Amanda's tall manservant. "Milady said you would need help, sir." He pulled me up. "We can dump him in the river."

Silently, we took Kalas' corpse, wrapped in his cloak, and carried it the short distance to the river's edge. Miraculously, neither the fight nor the Quickening seemed to have attracted attention. Seeing that I was still in distress from the Quickening, Douglas motioned me to leave. "I can deal with this, milord. My mistress is waiting for you," he told me, shouldering the burden and already walking away.

Gratefully, I took his advice and staggered back to the house. Amanda was waiting for me, and pulled me in through the door, closing and locking it behind me. I leaned panting against the wall, Kalas' Quickening still coursing through and tormenting me. She approached me with a worried expression. "Methos...." she said, raising a hand to my cheek but I flinched away.

"Stay away," I said hoarsely. "I ... I can't ... don't touch me, girl."

She fell back, and stood in silence as I made my slow way up the narrow stairs to the bedroom. My skin would no longer tolerate the feel of my clothes and I tore them off, uncaring that the room was chilly. I curled up on the bed and shivered, fighting down Kalas' tainted personality, his memories, his emotions. God, the cur was proving hard to defeat. I didn't hear the door open, but my sense of Immortal presence and Amanda's gasp came at the same time. "Methos, what's wrong?" she asked, her voice sharp with concern.

"Stay ... away," I warned but she was already sitting next to me. I cried out as the soft touch of her dress rasped like shagreen on my over-sensitised skin.

"What ....?" she asked in confusion.

"Your ... your dress ... hurts ...." Please go away, I prayed silently. I did not want to inflict my post-Quickening state on her.

Still bemused, nonetheless her answer was simply to remove her clothes down to her bare skin, and then she slipped onto the bed beside me. "Easy, old man," she whispered. "I can guess what the problem is." She pulled my reluctant arms away from me, exposing my angry erection and the flush of my body. "Let me help."

"No," I moaned, then cried out as her hands touched me. Even her gentle fingers were too much for me.

"Shhh, Methos." And then her hands were replaced by her silky, hot mouth. She had scarcely taken me in, when I came and I cried out for my shame and my relief. She didn't move for a moment, perhaps afraid to overstimulate me, but as my trembling eased, she must have realised she had helped. She moved up and brought my head onto her breast. "There, there, old man. Just rest a little. I'd forgotten how you hate these things."

"I hadn't," I said half sobbing. God, I felt mortified by such gracelessness. "I'm sorry...."

"Don't be an idiot, Methos," she said fondly, rolling me onto my back. I was still erect but the pain, the urgency were gone. She stroked my cock gently before climbing upon me, and taking me into her body. She took my hands and placed them on her breasts as she rocked upon me, moaning a little as she took her pleasure - I rolled one perfect nipple with my fingers, and slid my other hand where our bodies were joined. "Oh!" she cried as my finger found her centre and rubbed it gently. She bent forward so I could kiss her, pulling her hard against me. She wriggled, so I raised myself up to a sitting position, with her in my lap, still on me. I pinched her nipple and she bit my neck. The sharp pain shook my climax from me, without warning, and I clung to her as the aftershocks rippled through me. She rocked a little again on my hand, reminding me that she was still unsatisfied, but a few twitches of my finger, and another inserted into her and she cried out her completion. Exhausted, and sated, I lay down again, pulling her on top of me.

"Thank you," I mumbled, ashamed at the clumsiness of my lovemaking, if you could call it that.

She laughed. "My pleasure, I assure you," she purred against my neck. Amanda was ever gracious.

She climbed off the bed and made me get under the covers with her, clasping me firmly to her for all the world like her babe, which made me smile to myself. "Did Duncan help you when you killed Silas?" she asked, kissing my hair.

"Uh, no.... there was no time nor privacy...."

"Does that mean he took two Quickenings and he had to deal with them himself? Oh, Methos," she said reproachfully. "You should have taken care of each other."

I lifted my head to look into her soft eyes. "Amanda, I love romance as much as the next man but you were never _this_ sentimental before. Why in God's name does this matter so much to you?" I traced a line down her flawless cheek. She caught my finger and kissed it, but was not going to answer, I could see. I tapped her nose in warning and she made a face at me. "Amanda...."

"It's just ... Methos, what else is there for us? We have no children, we cannot live in the public eye, all we hold dear is torn from us over and over .... love is all that we have ...." and to my reget, a single tear dripped down her face. I pulled her close and kissed it away. "I miss John ...." she said in a choked voice. "I loved him so much and he died ... don't walk away from your Duncan ...." I could only hear every second word, but I understood her well enough.

"Hush, child, calm yourself. Shhh." I rocked her, understanding finally how she had tried to expiate her grief in immersing herself in my pitiable cause. "This is not my only chance for love...."

She hit me ungently. "Stupid, stupid... Methos, your Highlander is _Immortal_. Think about it - love, forever. Never to be alone again. What wouldn't I give for such a chance?"

I pushed her away and she fell back, glaring at me. "Fine, you like the idea so much, you have him, " I said crossly. "I'm sure you and he would have a lot in common, being so in love with love. For myself, I've have had enough of self-sacrifice and misery and torture." I shivered and pulled the blanket up around me as I remembered Caspian's last encounters with me.

She sat up and tugged my hands. "Methos, listen to me. Got to him. If the castle offends you, then leave, take him with you. But don't run away from him. Don't leave him all alone." Her words ended in a sob.

I gathered her to me. "Amanda, dear, dear girl. Don't imbue our history with your own emotions thus. Duncan is an adult. I doubt he has given me a moment's thought since I left. He let me go easily enough."

She glared at me again. "Bloody fool. You said he had taken two Quickenings, and there had been no chance to help him settle them. Whatever you were feeling, he would be feeling the same and worse. Who held him, Methos? Who helped him deal with Kronos inside of him? Is it a wonder he could only see his own pain?"

Harsh truths, and hard to hear from another. "Leave it be for now, maid. It is late, we're both tired ..." she started to protest, "... and I swear I will give your words careful thought. But in the morning, not now." I stroked her dark hair from her face. "Sleep, my lady." Obediently, she lay down with me, and I tucked her close, irritated and touched by her persistence and her concern. "Thank you, dear Amanda," I whispered into her hair.

She wriggled a little. Worn out, I think, by all the emotions, she was quickly asleep. I did not join her for a very long time. She had given me much to think about.

 

* * *

 

I was awake before her and when she woke and found me watching her, she pursed her lips and nodded. "You are leaving?"

Those words from other lips a few days before had, I thought, destroyed my life as was. Now they signalled its restoration and I could only smile at her. "Yes, lass. You convinced me."

"When will you leave?"

"Soon enough but I will wait until your business is done. I have to make one more visit to the City and," raising her hand to my lips, "I would like to see you safe to your home."

"It will snow soon. We must not delay too long lest it gets too deep for my carriage."

"True. When will you go?"

"Tomorrow, methinks. We should go before the weather changes."

She kissed me quickly and dressed. Now the decision was made, I felt lighter of heart than I had done for months. I would go to Duncan and ask him to come away with me. I should have done that before.

I went down from the Chelsea reach to the City on my own, visiting my bankers, the armourer and tailor where I had placed my orders earlier in the week, and to a goldsmith to collect a very special item. I conducted some business for my hostess and I was back in Chelsea by evening, where I found all in readiness for our early departure.

Supper was ready and I ate hungrily, Amanda watching in amusement. "At this rate, old man, you will regain all you have lost in a week."

I looked at her seriously, wiping my hands and my knife on a linen napkin. "I have gained all that I have lost that matters, my dear, thanks to you."

She nodded politely. "It is a pleasure, Methos. I only hope my agent in Germany will bring you good news - but where shall I send it?"

"Keep it, Amanda. I shall call on you by the spring, and tell you how you may find me. Now." I stood and undid one of my bundles, withdrawing an inlaid box, and handing it to her, going on one knee. "This is but the smallest token of my gratitude, and far less than I would wish to bestow, but it is all that I could procure at short notice. I beg that you will accept it, with my love and regard."

She opened it and drew out the pretty thing, gold filigree and fine, tiny rubies, and larger emeralds. "Allow me," I said, taking it from her fingers and fastening it about her long, white neck. "Almost worthy of your beauty, methinks."

She stood and looked into the mirror on the wall. "It's lovely, Methos. I shall think of you whenever I see it."

"That would please me," I said in all seriousness.

She turned and I kissed her brow. "I would like to take my leave, with your permission. I have some things to do, and I am tired." I hesitated before saying, "Will you join me later?"

"Do you want me to?" I was not the only one who was hesitant. "After all, with luck, in two days you will be in Duncan's arms."

"He would not begrudge me your company, lass, only envy me. But I don't wish to impose..."

"It's no imposition, you silly man. I would like that, very much. There will be time to be alone later." Her wistful look made me sad, as I anticipated my own happiness.

"You could come with me?"

She laughed as I knew she would. "Are you crazed? Live in a forest? No, thank you. But you and your Scot will come to visit me. I want to assess his ... charms."

"Now you worry me, Lady Amanda. If he lays his eyes on you, I will lose him for sure."

We looked at each other, all play gone. She touched my cheek. "If he loves you half as much as you love him, Methos, nothing on this earth could take him from you." Then she smiled. "Now, go, do what you must. I will join you in an hour?"

There was a melancholy air to our lovemaking that night, knowing we would part so soon. It had been a hundred years since I had seen Amanda before this encounter - I swore I would not let it be so long again. In any event, I was curious to know what Duncan would make of her.

As she fell asleep, I lay awake, anticipating seeing my lover again. I was more than a little afraid now that he might turn me away, offended that I had abandoned him. Well, I would have to convince him to have me back, and that was all there was for it.

I must have been more worried about Duncan's reception than I was prepared to admit to myself. For the first time since my first night with her, my sleep was troubled by nightmares, and I disturbed Amanda more than once, waking to find her soothing me and holding me close.

"Methos, be calm. You have faced Challenges with less concern," she said, rubbing my back.

"Aye, girl, but this will lose me more than my head, if I am wrong."

"Have a little faith, old man," she chided. "Come back to sleep."

When we woke, the weather had beaten us - it had snowed overnight, and now we had a choice to make. To go on, and hope we would not be trapped by rising snow, or to wait and hope that the weather would not worsen to the point where we could not depart at all. With regret I assessed the sky, and smelled the wind, and judged that more snow was likely. Departure would be foolhardy. The only pressing reason to leave was my urge to see Duncan again, and that was not sufficient reason to endanger Amanda's people or her carriage.

For three days I fretted and tried to keep my impatience in check. Amanda, wisely, did not try to soothe me. She sent me down the river to Richmond to deliver one of the books we had brought with us to an old friend, and the honest exercise wore out most of my bad temper. She greeted me on my return with mulled port.

"Ah, that's good," I said gratefully, accepted the warm drink. "I think we can travel tomorrow - the snow has stopped and the roads are dry. If we wait any longer, there will be a thaw and it will be muddy."

"Well, thank God for that," she said dryly. "Methos, I love you dearly, but you're driving my household mad with your fretting."

I kissed her hand. "My apologies, milady. I am just eager to be on my way."

"You amaze me, sir." She was laughing at me, and I could not help but join in. I had been behaving badly, and she had been patient and kind. I would miss her a great deal.

It was decided we would depart early the next morning. If care was taken - and I intended to drive, so it would be - we could be at her estate in a day and a half, a little longer if we chose to. And the day after that, I would see my love again.

 

* * *

 

We had made as good time as it was possible, and by noon, three days after we had left Chelsea, I was leading my horse through the woods where the castle people had made their retreat. My heart thudded hard in my chest as I walked the last few hundred yards to the main dwelling. I sensed his Presence and I forced a bright smile on my face. He was there with Alison, who smiled as she called to him, alerting him to my arrival.

I wished he looked as welcoming. As he saw me, Duncan's face was a picture of shock, and after his first gasping out of my name, his next words froze me. "Where were you, Methos? Why did you come back?"

My nightmares seemed to be coming true, but I had not learned anything in four thousand years if I had not learned how to feign lack of concern. "Why should not I not?" I said carelessly, concentrating on Alison who was blooming in good health ... ah, more than good health, I could see now. I was glad for her, even as I thought how this might complicate things for the little band.

Duncan glowered at me, and I was beginning to feel ten types of a fool. I unloaded my horse, teasing the woman, but he lost patience and grabbed me. He came close to losing his hand, if not worse, then - my instincts were to defend myself in the face of his apparent hostility. But when I looked into his eyes, there was no anger - just confusion, a little hurt ... and blessedly, relief. At that moment, I knew that my decision to return had been the right one.

I couldn't resist teasing him a little. "I said I would stay as long as I was needed - you said you needed me. Have you changed your mind again?"

"You... you are the most impossible, contrary, annoying pain in the arse God ever cursed the earth with!" he shouted in exasperation but then he silenced my silly banter with his luscious mouth, and I melted into his arms, arms I thought would never be around me again.

"Tell me you will stay," he was asking me.

"Yes, Duncan," I said, dazed with wonder that I was where I had dreamed of being.

"For how long?" he asked.

"While there are mortals here, I will stay," I said and regretted the words the second I'd said them. I had meant him to come away with me. But it was what he wanted to hear, and he kissed me again, leading me with pride and love into the shelter.

At once we were surrounded by my former fellow slaves, now our friends, and I was somewhat stunned by the warmth and enthusiasm with which they greeted me. It was too cold to do aught but what could be done indoors, so the hall was full. It was like the night we defeated Kronos, I remembered dimly, but then I had been so exhausted and hungry and heartsick, I could barely walk, and had fallen asleep in the middle of the meal. Now I was in a position to appreciate the love and affection these wonderful, foolish people held for me, and I could only stand agape as one after another, people came to shake my hand. Beth, our little mother, gave a cry and flung her arms around my neck. "Oh _Methos_ , I knew you would come back!"

You knew more than I did, maid, I thought silently as I took her hands. "Where is his lordship?"

She looked about - the child was brought forward. It had been months since I'd seen him. He was obviously thriving, and likely to be as tall as his late father. "A bonny babe, girl. You've done very well. And you?" We had been worried about her health after his birth, but her colour was now very good, and she had gained a decent amount of weight.

"I am well, sir. For that, I can thank you."

I patted her cheek, and was about to make some anodyne comment, but my elbow was seized by my jealous lover who did not like his prize to be taken from him for any length of time. I tugged on his shoulder. "I need to talk to you," I said into his ear.

"Aye, me also," he said. "Wait." Then he strode with his long swinging walk across the room to where Samson was smirking at me. He bent and asked the old man - old! - something and I saw Samson nod. Alison gave me a knowing look, and I wondered what the hell Duncan was up to now. He was back at my side, with a sack he had picked up from a table. "He says we can use his hut. Come on."

To the protests of his fellows, Duncan dragged me out of the hut into the cold fresh air. "I thought you wanted me to rebuild my bonds with them," I complained, untying my horse's reins so I could lead it.

He crushed me to him. "I want you to rebuild your bonds with _me_ first, you old sod. I've been going out of my mind, you do know that, don't you?"

He was making his determined way through the forest to the former charcoal burner's hut, but he stopped and stared at me when I answered, "No, I didn't know that, Duncan. For all I knew when I left, you came back and slipped into the bed of the first willing female who would have you."

"You ..., " he choked. "I would _never_ be unfaithful to you. However long, even if you never returned!"

I walked past him. "More fool you then," I said tightly, feeling unaccustomed guilt. I had taken such joy and comfort from Amanda - and now he made it seem a dirty tryst. He grabbed my arm as I got ahead of him and spun me about.

"Methos, you're not serious? You thought I could forget you so easily?"

I relaxed. It was not the accusation of infidelity then. "No," I admitted. "But I assumed you realised how much I could not give you, and would make your accommodations accordingly. As I would have done."

His beautiful, soulful eyes bored into me. "You were not coming back."

"No."

"Why, in god's name? I thought you loved me!"

"I do, I did ... Duncan, I was wounded, sick at heart ... and when you let me go...."

"Let...? Let you go?" He seized me by both arms. "Methos, if you knew what it cost me to see you ride away ...."

"Why did you not protest, say something to make me think you wanted me to stay?"

If I was not careful, he would choke on his own anger, but then, incredibly, he reined in his temper, and calmed his voice. "You had been hurt, I knew you were in pain. You had the right - god only knows you had more than the right - to determine your own course then. I - we - owed you that. I just hoped ... prayed, that I would be enough reason to stay. But clearly, I was not."

"Mo cridhe, you were, but I was not wise enough or sane enough to know or care about your feelings then."

He searched my face, and then touched my cheek, the smile on his lips not quite reaching his soft eyes "You're getting cold," he said gently. "We have much to talk about, and I don't want to be angry with you. Whatever you say, whatever you had to do to convince yourself to return, I will hear and not condemn. My dearest wish has come true and I will not question how it has happened."

I lay my head on his shoulder briefly, and then took his hand. "Let's build a fire. I hope that's food in that sack."

We walked in silence to the animal shelter so I could stable my horse, and take the rest of the pack off it. "I lied about the gold in the castle - it was Kronos' money, here, in the saddle," I showed him.

"Aye, I suspected something like that. You have no need to hide from Alison's opinion, you know. You can do no wrong in any of their eyes now."

His eyes were full of humour. "I shall endeavour to live up to my undeserved reputation," I said dryly, hefting the saddlebags over my shoulder. "Shall we?"

The hut had been stripped, but there was still a bed, and the fireplace was ready to be laid. It smelled unused and at my unasked question, he said, "Samson and Alison stay with the others in the main hall. It's more comfortable."

"And it hasn't inhibited them at all, I notice."

"Ah, you saw she's pregnant. Another reason why I'm glad you're back."

"Duncan," I said, my heart in my throat. "I had not meant to stay. I meant to ask you to come away with me."

He didn't even turn around from setting the fire. "Yes, I know. But you promised to stay."

"Do you intend to hold me to that?"

He said nothing, waiting until the tinder had caught and the flames were licking the wood before he stood up. "Methos, I cannae leave. You know that. They depend on me, they are building a community based on the assumption I will be here."

"Duncan, I can offer you a safe, comfortable life anywhere in the world. You could travel, you could study under any master you wanted. I would be with you always."

He held his arms crossed against him, defensively, but his gaze was open to me. "Aye, I could do all that. And these people might go on without me perfectly well. But it is not the way of a clansman, and forgive me, mo cridhe, they are my clan. You are part of my clan. Don't make me choose between you and them, for I will choose you, but it will kill me."

I could not answer - my shock at his declaration had literally stolen the power of speech from me. In two strides he was before me, and holding me to him. "Methos?" he asked huskily. "Will you be so very unhappy to stay? Is there nothing I can offer you?"

"Only the moon and the stars, Duncan, because only that would be more than you are to me. But you don't know what you are giving up. There's an entire world out there, and you would cut such a swathe through it...."

"Peace, Methos. I know," he said softly. "We are Immortal, we have time. Let these people grow strong and have their children. You can serve them and they can heal you." I protested that but he silenced. "Do you think I don't know what this place did to you? Do you forget whose memories and dreams I have in my head now?"

"No, I do not forget. That is why I feared to return but I should have stayed and helped you assimilate him, Duncan. A wise person took me to task over that very point...."

"Who?"

"Later, child." I was really not ready to tell him about my doings. "Have you made your peace with those Quickenings?"

"Barely. I needed you," he said reproachfully.

"I'm sorry." Such a feeble response. Amanda had been right after all.

"It doesn't matter now. " The fire was rapidly warming the room and he busied himself with the sack which held bread and some cured meat. "Are you hungry?"

"Not really - Duncan...." He understood, taking my hand. "You know I love you?" I asked.

"Yes, I do. And I you." He kissed me, his fingers tangling in my hair. "Come," he said softly, walking us over to the narrow bed. "After all we have endured, I will not let anything come between us now."

He turned me and made me sit, then knelt between my legs, kissing my lips gently. I could feel how taut his body was, how he suppressed his hunger for me, and I didn't want that. I was starving for him too, and I had no patience with restraint, not now. I pulled his hips towards me, so he could feel my arousal. He grinned against my mouth and, without releasing me, began to tug on my breech lacings. I growled and pushed away his hands - I could do it faster than he could, and I didn't want to wait. "You know, if you hadn't left, we could have been making love all this time," he said, undoing his own pants.

"Absence makes the heart grow fonder, Highlander."

He laughed and pushed me back on the bed. "All it's done for me, old man, is give me blue balls." He fondled my cock. "Know the feeling?"

He looked up into my face and read my sudden flush correctly. He continued rubbing my erection gently. "Is there something I need to know, Methos?"

"Duncan, you said you would not condemn me."

"Aye. What is it I'm not going to condemn?"

His voice had remained even, although his hands had gone still, and there was no anger in his tone or his expression. It gave me courage. "When I left you, I was attacked on the road to London ..." He listened patiently as, hesitantly, I told him all that had happened to me after I left him. He was silent a long time when I finished speaking.

"Heart, are you angry with me?" I finally asked. He lifted his head which he had rested on my thigh while I had been speaking.

"No. I would like to meet this lady Amanda, though. I owe her a great deal, it seems."

"I was unfaithful." I could not keep all the shame I felt out of my voice.

"No. You thought we were done with, and she needed comfort, as did you." He stroked my leg carefully.

"You would not have done the same."

"No - but I hadn't given up. Besides, I had other things to occupy me."

"You forgive me?" I said, surprised.

He reached for me, pulled me down to kiss him. "There is nothing to forgive, _mo cridhe_. Except for the fact," he said with a welcome glint of mischief in his eyes, "you are still dressed and you and I are not yet making love as I burn to do."

"Ah," I said in a hoarse voice, "I think I can remedy that ...."

"Methos? Be quiet and let me love you."

So I did. And the only sounds in that tiny hut for a good while after that were not human words at all but the universal language of love and delight in the joining of flesh to flesh. And heart unto heart.

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written nearly twenty years ago under another pseudonym. It hasn't been revised (or reread by me) since then.
> 
> I am posting this and my other stories from this period purely so people can read them if they choose. I won't be reading comments, and don't care if you leave kudos. I'm dumping them and running.
> 
> Having said that, I worked hard on them, and I hope they still entertain someone out there.


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